


hornblower/barbara

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower - C. S. Forester
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 5-2-11</p>
    </blockquote>





	hornblower/barbara

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 5-2-11

The box is quite fine, carved from dark wood and etched with shimmering swirls of whale bone. It is one of the many gifts they have no idea of what to do with, save to display them as beloved treasures they cannot bear to touch. 

Horatio finds the idea absurd, but he also has no desire to offend. He occasionally will touch some of them, and Barbara wonders what crosses his mind when he does, what he thinks of when he feels the wood or stone or fabric. There is a life that was his before her, and she knows enough of it to know not to ask when the look in his eyes belongs across the ocean or in a past long buried.

For some reason, today he has brought the box into the sitting room, turning it carefully in his hands. They are long-fingered and steady, callused and marked with ink. She loves his hands, watches them as he moves his instruments and tools across his maps. He is constantly charting courses, mapping out their lives. She watches him study the box, smiling to herself behind the book she's pretending to read.

"Who is this from, do you remember?"

"I can't say that I do." She puts the book down, open across her skirts. "No doubt some hapless Admiral you rescued."

"I do not rescue Admirals." 

"Not officially, no." She does not even pretend to hide the smile this time, her lips quirking upwards. "But I'm afraid that even you cannot deny the things you've done that aren't spoken of in most company. It is known, regardless of whether or not you wish it to be." She slips a marker in the book and closes it. "Admiral Westmoreland, I believe. For the incident with his...dear friend."

"Ah-um." Hornblower clears his throat and frowns at the box. She can see his intent to put it aside, to not think of the situation that prompted its gifting. "I see."

"Have you ever used it?"

"Used?" He directs his gaze back up at her before looking down at the box, opening the hinged lid. His eyebrows rise at the dark material inside. 

"Snuff," she informs him, easing the confusion from his brow. He makes a face and she is careful not to laugh. “Have you tried it before?”

“No.”

“You should.” 

He frowns and looks down at the dark powder. “I should?”

“Oh yes.”

He keeps frowning, taking the tiny silver spoon that is attached to the inside of the box and scooping up a small mound of the snuff. He sends a quick glance toward Barbara and then leans in, inhaling it quickly into one nostril. Barbara presses her lips together as his face contorts into a series of expressions.

“Horatio, dear?”

He shakes his head once and sneezes loudly, roughly, sending the box and the snuff flying. The carpet and much of Barbara are covered with dark powder and she blinks rapidly as Horatio sinks to his knees in front of her, brushing away the mess with his handkerchief. “I apologize.”

“Don’t.” She reaches out and presses a finger to his lips and then leans in and kisses him, pulling back with another laugh as he sneezes again.


End file.
